Her hands fold over the table, drink abandoned despite exacting it as payment for this whole conversation. For this answer, she does not look away from him.

“No.”

It sounds harsh. But she learned her lesson so thoroughly at Dairsmuid. It isn’t dispelled by a small contingent of templars who have yet to put a sword through her throat.

“I would have said yes, if you asked me before,” she admits. Before skirting the edge of Dairsmuid; it would be unfair to Bastien to draw that into the room with them. She had hardly liked speaking of it to Byerly Rutyer. It shouldn’t be a thing used to make a point. “But I know even the kindest of them, who would flinch from raising a sword themselves, still turn away from what their fellows do in the name of their Divine.”